Warrior's Soul (Book 3 of The Warrior Chronicles)

Chapter 59

Wild roses and geranium mixed with the cold wind of the Three Sisters; Leyla drew in the scents of Gaia as she gave Mira's hand a small squeeze. They did not have long before the guards of the Dome would notice their presence. "Remember, they will surround us, but you don't need to be afraid."

Mira lifted her head, her eyes peaking up at Leyla from under her hood, "Don't worry Mommy, I'm not silly. I have you beside me. Plus, I won't be afraid of my own people!"

Her people. Leyla knew she shouldn't be surprised but she couldn't help it. Even after so many years there were moments where she found it hard to believe just how much Mira resembled her father. The confidence she had in herself, the speed with which she arrived at conclusions and the way she trusted Leyla more than Leyla trusted herself.

For Leyla, belonging was a feeling she had always fought for. But for Mira...the Light People, the Warriors, the Da Su's, her Ghost Uncles...all people were hers.

Mira did not try to fit in, she just showed people she cared for them and they accepted her in turn.

Her beautiful girl was much wiser than Leyla had been.

"Alright Mira, hold my hand." Having spotted the light guards coming their way, Leyla took a step forward and balanced out her weight. She carried no weapons beneath the silver cloak the Ghost Kings gave them to ward off the cold, but if things got out of hand she could always relieve the guards of theirs.

"Stop right there! Who are you?"

Leyla looked at the faces of the six men who spread out in a circle around them. They were all young, and none of them looked familiar. How could she not know a single one? But of course. Raphael had a face changer posing as her when Leyla left for the No Lands. And as meticulous as he was, Raphael would have changed the guards with men who hadn't met the real Leyla to avoid problems.

Was the face changer still posing as her? It couldn't be. Leyla pulled her hood further over her face before speaking: "We come in peace." She raised her hands to show she was unarmed. "Please call Michael, the Book Keeper."  

"Who calls for Michael?" A deep voice intruded.

The guards shifted quickly at the newcomers presence revealing two High Thinkers, standing a swords length away. But Leyla could not look past the first. Her mind went blank, her eyes filling with tears, as Raphael took three steps forward and pulled her to him.

Was this a dream? She had dreamt of him so often over the years, had she fallen asleep somewhere? It couldn't be Raphael...and yet the man who held onto her smelled like Raphael. He felt like Raphael. And the golden eyes that looked down at her as he pushed her hood back, could belong to no one but him.

"I love you."

Her sudden confession surprised them both but she had needed to say it. She had regretted not speaking those words for seven years. For seven years, she regretted that he may have died without knowing that she loved him.

"Thank you," Raphael raised her chin to meet his tender gaze. "For loving me. For coming back to me." He stroked her hair gently, before leaning his forehead to hers.

Was this real? How could it be real?

"How?" She asked, feeling overwhelmed. "I saw that sword run through you!" Raising her hand she touched the white silk covering his chest, "I saw you fall. The soldiers, they were shouting..."

He held her hands to stop them from shaking, "I did get stabbed, I was practically dead and I wouldn't have survived..." Raphael kissed her forehead as if to soften his words. "But you saved me."